Adventures of an 8 pound dog, part 3

About a week ago, Cotton decided to spend the vast majority of his time under my bed. This is generally where he goes when all isn't right in his world, and is a big red flag. So, I started looking into it right away.

I also spent more than a few hours lying on the floor, trying to cajole him out from under the bed. Except, I don't know what's wrong. He's not showing any signs of distress or fear. He's happy, he's ripping around the house and playing games a few times a day... he's just sleeping under the bed instead of on the couch or one of the dog beds.

Finally, I decided that he could come out when he ready and left him alone.

He's still going under the bed a lot when I'm not paying attention to him, but I think I'm going to leave him be. Maybe he just decided that under the bed's a good place to hang. It is poodle proof, after all.

And, in the meantime, it doesn't hurt that he's managed to flush out all the dust bunnies from down there. That bed has so many weird legs and supports underneath, it's a dust bunny haven. Getting a vacuum under there to do a good cleaning is next to impossible. Normally, I have to take the bed apart a few times a year and move it out of the way to clean underneath; but I think Cotton's done the job for me this time.

Although, I seriously doubt that was his intention.

Anyway, the Dude has spent the better part of the last week under my bed. I still don't know why, or if anything's wrong. I'm trying to leave him alone, but it has me worried.

THEN, earlier this week Tallulah decided to play a rousing game of keep away with Cotton and their shared food dish; and she did a darned fine job of it. Now the Dude's afraid to go near his bowls for food and water... so much so that he fasted for two days.

The few times that he did come out from under the bed, he stared at me until he had my attention, crept up to about 2 feet from the bowls, streeeeeetttched towards them and then skittered away like a bat out of hell before making contact. (Oh, and he usually tucked that lame leg under him for the departure as well.)

I finally gave in and put down a couple of bowls of his own in another area of the kitchen. Tallulah's banned from going anywhere near them and so far he's liking the new set up much better.

So, after all that, what this means is that: I'm either carrying my sometimes gimpy dog up and down the stairs every time that he goes outside, or going out and talking him into taking the stairs himself. He's hanging out under the bed most of the time which, although I don't know why, has been a sign of a problem for 9 years. I now have to put out (step around and clean) a second set of bowls.

I can't decide if my dog is horribly spoiled, or if he needs to go see a vet. Either way, I'm starting to think that daily happy pills might be in order... I just can't decide if he should get them or if I should keep them for myself.